


Darkness' long fingers

by Mad666



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Seriously lots of magic), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Hints of FrostIron (build-up), Humour, M/M, Magic, Mythology References, Sassy Loki, Sassy Tony, world-building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad666/pseuds/Mad666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Asgard's warriors attack the kingdom of Aren, interrupting the coronation ceremony, they do not expect to capture Aoife Nymerien, a young girl who illicitly uses the magic of the old Gods. Putting her into the same prison block as Loki is, mildly put, a bad idea and an even worse one is to send them to the Avengers together in a way of atonement for their sins. </p><p>As Aoife decides to save her brother on her own and Loki accompanies her, the real chaos begins. Because in all this confusion, nobody really knows who the two other persons are, appearing seemingly out of nothing and challenging Loki's position as the wreaker of havoc and mischief maker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Der Dunkelheit lange Finger](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/156458) by Lucy Haibara/ Mad666. 



The red drop vanished in the sink like a rivulet, pulling a red streak behind itself which paled while the water drained away out of the sink. She watched the blood oozing out of her finger, falling down and joining the droplet before in the sink. Strands of her long, silvery-white hair hung in front of her eyes, blurring the view to the mirror and her own strange reflection.

 

She hated looking in the mirror and seeing herself. The silvery hair, the cold, grey eyes, the sharp lines of her face and her pale skin. She hated it, everything about herself; it reminded her too much of the persons who called themselves her parents. Today, she was going to shine, she thought with a glance towards the white dress, embroidered with diamonds, which hung at a hook on the door. It was her cousin's coronation day and she was expected to be an image of beauty since she was the eldest daughter of the Right Hand.

 

King Norcher wasn't going to rule long. He was going to be overthrown or Aren would fall in a war under his leadership. Their enemies were waiting for a chance to attack and the designation of such a young, inexperienced king was everything they could hope for.

 

A quiet knock on the door disrupted her thoughts and she quickly held her bloody hand underneath the flow of water from the sink. The knocking became louder, then disappeared, and she heard the muffled voice of her brother.

 

“Aoife! I know that you're in there,” he laughed and entered when he got nothing but silence in response. Aoife turned the water off and turned towards her brother with a smile. Marion was a bit older than her, although she sometimes felt like he was the child rather than her.

 

But today, he was radiating a maturity, an authority that she had never seen on him before. That could come from the pristine, white garment he was wearing, though. It had the same diamond ornaments as hers. His white hair was tied back with an inconspicuous ribbon and only a few short strands fell into his light blue eyes. His skin was just as pale as Aoife's and both of them were of a rather slender, small bodily frame.

 

Davis Nymerien, the Right Hand of the old and the new king, was proud of his two eldest children and had every right to be. Marion was well-read and intelligent, Aoife polite and beautiful, but not dumb herself. What nobody, not even the king knew, was that they were both talented users of the old magic.

 

It was a prohibition which both of them were aware of and which they very deliberately ignored. No, really _no_ member of one of the three Rose nations was allowed to practice the magic of the old Gods. Violations of that law were punished with the dungeon or even death sentences. Aoife knew that, she had known when she had asked her brother to teach her when she had been six years old, and she knew it now, when their secret was close to being discovered.

 

She smiled at her brother, side-stepped him and lifted her gown from the hook to lay it down on the dress.

 

“I was deep in thought, I didn't hear you.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Tell that to father, but not to me. You can't hide the blood. Come on, show me,” he said with a gentle smile and Aoife rolled her eyes, holding out her right hand to her brother. The blood on her finger had dried, the wound was closed. Only a long, red cut had remained from her experiments.

 

Experiments that Marion didn't like, but was practising himself for several years now. Blood rituals were necessary to keep the old magic under control, which was a price that she was ready to pay. But Marion had weakened himself during such a ritual to an extend that had caused their father to pose questions, so the siblings had decided to begin their studies about it, keeping neat records about everything. The books they used to write down their results were well-hidden and impossible to reach even for prying eyes.

 

“I didn't make any progress,” she said quietly, slipping out of her casual dress and into the one for the festivities. It was beautiful, made of silver and white silk, the diamonds on the fabric looking like stars. Together with her white hair and the pale skin, it made her look like a graceful ghost, bright and shining, just like her brother, who was now coming to stand behind her as he ran his fingers through her hair.

 

“Well, how do you want them?” he asked with a grin, making Aoife smile. It was a tradition that Marion braided her hair, he was skilled with such things.

 

They left the room with the first ring of the great bell which announced the beginning of the ceremony. When they entered, the throne room was already full of nobles, and almost everybody was looking at the pair of young siblings. They really seemed like graceful ghosts, Aoife noticed with a smile and bowed before the prince of Aren, simultaneously with Marion.

 

Norcher's arrogant gaze was fixed on the clock above the doors, it seemed like he couldn't wait for the moment when the crown would be his. The Right Hand's children weren't of interest for him, no matter how gracefully they bowed.

 

“I can already see him, his cold dead body, burning on the funeral pyre, I long for this image so much,” Marion whispered, receiving a well-hidden grin from his sister and a withering glance from his father.

 

The hall filled up, the gates were closed and the ceremony began. Silence settled when the queen stepped up to her son, the crown in her hands and a smile on her lips. The crown was made of thin marble, gems set in the stone, bordered with pure gold. At the very front sat a large, red ruby, surrounded by jade pearls; they said that the starlight of the old Gods was trapped in the bloodstone.

 

A shudder ran through Aoife as Norcher spoke the old words of agreement in the traditional language of the Rose nations and queen Liliy set the crown onto his head. Her father Davis rose, stepped forward and knelt down to swear his loyalty as the Right Hand of his Majesty, then, he called his children to the front, arrayed by their ages.

 

Marion bowed deeply, but then he hesitated as though he had forgotten the words of his oath. Aoife knew better and completely understood him. He was reluctant to swear his loyalty and constancy to this arrogant, spoiled boy, but as he eventually opened his mouth to speak, a rumble went through the floor, interrupting him.

 

Aoife looked up as muffled screams reached her ears, then, the great doors flew open and chaos broke loose. The nobles rose from their seats and tried to flee further into the room, but the gold-clad warriors held them back or killed them on the spot.

 

An arrow swished through the air, aimed at Aoife, who raised her arms and erected a shield out of sheer reflex. The arrow ricocheted off the invisible wall and three soldiers stared at her motionlessly before one of them raised his hand. Her body convulsed with the electrical shock and the pain as his staff hit her between the shoulder blades. The last thing she heard was a furious and fearful cry of her brother, then the world shifted and was engulfed in darkness.

 


	2. In dark cells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Aoife meet.

“It was the best opportunity!” Odin thundered and his spear's shaft hit the stone floor with a loud thud. His son was pacing in front of him, his cheeks reddened with suppressed anger.

 

“Aren's people did nothing wrong! They were just crowning their king, and we? We slaughtered them like they were disgusting scum! Father, Aren has always been a land with dignity, with pride, which we took from them without reason!” he shouted, waving Mjölnir about wildly.

 

“Hold your tongue in front of your father and king, Thor!” Frigga laid a soothing hand onto her husband's arm, which he shook off with a dark frown as he turned towards his son.

 

“They were using the magic of the old Gods!” Apparently, he wanted to add more, but Thor interrupted him sharply and with a thunderously loud voice: “But we only found that out _after_ the cowardly attack on them! That is no reason to wipe out half a nation!” With that, he turned away and disappeared between the columns, heading for the staircase that would lead him towards the dungeons.

 

The cell blocks were surprisingly quiet, at least compared to the last times that he had been here. It was always an oppressing feeling to see all these men and women and spot his brother's familiar face among those unfortunate beings. That false smile, the mask that had long since hidden the soft features underneath and the stance that gave the mockery a body.

 

It were the short talks between the brothers that kept leaving him confused and thoughtful. What exactly happened in his brother's mind, he didn't understand even after all these years, all these fights and he feared that he never would. And that though all he wanted was to help him to shed the madness around him.

 

Loki didn't let him get close, rejected him again and again and rather taunted his love for the humans than trying to experience it himself. The cells, locked with golden force fields, were lined up down the hallways until it got lost in the darkness. Loki's cell was the first one on the left side and his brother lifted his head when he heard the loud, heavy steps. His green eyes flashed and a grin crept onto his lips as he saw a way to escape the constant boredom. A discussion with the thunder god was always interesting enough.

 

But Thor only spared him a short glance and then turned towards the cell opposite of Loki's. A flatbed stood at the far wall and the cell was only scarcely furnished, even if it wasn't as empty as the standard issues. A young woman sat on the floor next to the force field, her eyes closed and hidden behind a curtain of white hair.

 

“Aoife Nymerien,” Thor addressed her quietly and the girl lifted her head to look at him out of clear, grey eyes. She was pretty, he had to admit that. There was a grace to her that still reached him despite her dirtied clothes and tousled hair and it baffled him. For a moment, he thought about what to say, but Aoife took the choice from him as she started to speak.

 

“What happened to my brother?” she asked quietly and Thor's gaze became compassionate, feeling his brother's eyes on his back, before he shrugged.

 

“The king vanished with him, shortly after the soldiers had captured you,” he replied and Aoife laid her head back to stare at the ceiling.

 

Loki sat, leaning to a wall and pretending to be reading, but he couldn't focus on the words with the talk going on. Somehow, his new fellow prisoner interested him. She had something to her that he couldn't quite place yet. 

 

“You know why you are here, don't you?” Thor asked and Aoife nodded slowly.

 

“My brother and I studied the magic of the old Gods!” Loki looked up and felt a grin forming on his lips while she turned her cold gaze on Thor. “Why did you have to destroy all of Aren? The citizens were innocent! They had nothing to do with the incompetence of their new and old king, they had nothing to do with the interests of my brother and me! We wanted to help Aren, and what did you do? Took all the hope that was still there with one single order!” she hissed and Loki's grin grew further. Yes, he already liked her.

 

“It was not my decision to attack Aren, and had it been mine, I would not have made it!” Thor insisted, but when he felt Aoife's sceptical gaze and Loki's amused one, he turned to leave the dungeon with fast steps.

 

Aoife suppressed a grin and looked around in her cell, then she stood up to stare directly at Loki. He had also risen and for a moment, they just stood in front of each other, then, he raised an eyebrow.

 

“You use the magic of the old Gods? An amazing achievement, but are you able to control it?” His voice sounded mocking, although it showed a hint of interest and if Aoife wasn't mistaken, there was even a bit of admiration in it. 

 

“Well, it was sufficient up until now,” she responded quietly and his second eyebrow joined the first one.

 

“That's interesting.”

 

Aoife smiled at the well-hidden compliment. “I followed your exceedingly questionable appearance on Midgard.” Loki took another step forward while he silently waited for her next words. “To be honest, I think you were right. The humans need a higher force to control them. But you approached the matter in the wrong way,” she smiled and Loki sat down on the chair in his cell. 

 

“Now, this is getting interesting. Pray tell, how should I have approached it, then?”

 

“Trust.” He raised an eyebrow and looked sceptically at the white-haired girl in front of him. “Humans bet on trust. Simple trust that doesn't get them anything, but they think of it as security. The only ones who would get in the way are-”

 

“SHIELD's little _Avengers_ , as they like to call themselves,” Loki interrupted and Aoife nodded with a smile.

 

“The only trust you would need is that of SHIELD. I think that if you find the right pull, that won't be difficult.”

 

Loki stood again, walked over to the force field slowly and grinned at his fellow prisoner scornfully. “How is it that you, Aoife Nymerien, daughter of the Right Hand of Aren, offer your help to me? What do you get when I am on the throne?”

 

Her smile disappeared and coldness spread over her features. “I want to see Asgard burn!” 

 

His grin widened even further. “I can do that. Asgard will burn and Odin with it,” he taunted and spun around once, staring at his cell. “Now I just need to get out of here,” he muttered miserably and sat down on the bed with a bok.

 

Aoife laid down on her own flatbed, staring at the ceiling, and let her thoughts wander as she concentrated on the weak presence of her brother's soul, seemingly far away. Feeling that he was alive filled her with joy and she slowly drifted off to sleep. She didn't notice Thor watching her and his brother from the entrance until he came to a decision and turned around to leave, for real, this time.

 

 

 

Odin sat on his throne, Gungnir firmly placed on the ground and his eye fixed on the two prisoners. Loki was looking around with a self-satisfied smile while Aoife's grey gaze was solely fixed on the Allfather. Odin took a deep breath as he stared at the two, then, he raised his voice to speak.

 

“You are aware what your crimes are?” Both remained silent which he interpreted as a 'yes'. “I thought about your sentence for a long time, but I think that I have reached the right conclusion.” He paused and glanced at Thor, who didn't return his gaze. Loki looked up with apparent disinterest and Aoife seemed to have tuned his words out. An angry crease appeared on Odin's forehead, but he stayed in control of his own emotions. “You shall stay on Midgard until you regret your actions. You shall support the Avengers in protecting Earth from further damage and will use your magic only in limited amounts.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow and Aoife's jaw dropped. Was this a dream or did her plan work even faster and better than she had thought?

 

She cleared her throat and Odin's eye fixed her. “Does that mean that I am still allowed to use the magic of the old Gods?” she asked with feigned incredulity and Loki had to fight back a grin at Odin's grim expression.

 

“Yes, although I do not like it.” His voice was discontented and his gaze had angrily found Thor again. The thunderer's eyes had been fixed on his brother during the declaration, waiting for the appropriate reaction that now followed.

 

“Honestly, Odin? You want to set me, Loki, free among the humans?” he asked mockingly, almost laughing, and raised his eyebrows. “I once thought you a wise king, but as it seems, your intelligence fades along with your youth.” Now, there was nothing more than derisiveness in his voice, angering both Odin and Thor.

 

“Loki, hold your tongue!” Thor hissed and stepped up to his brother, who dodged him with a smile. Another quip from the god of lies was to be expected, but, surprisingly enough, he stayed silent; he wouldn't want to overdo it with his show. Aoife hadn't said a word in a long time, but tried not to look to happy about this turn of events. Of course, both had already begun to plan Asgard's downfall, as well as Midgard's subjugation. Would Thor and Oding recognize the mistake that they'd made, and if they did, wouldn't it be too late?

 

A sadistic grin stretched Loki's lip, but disappeared as fast as it had come when he saw his brother's sceptical gaze. “When do we start?” he asked, trying to hide the joyful undertone. Thor stepped closer to open the prisoners' shackles.

 

“Today.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought!


	3. With dark alcohol

Tony Stark was downing his third glass of scotch now after Fury had brought his 'good news'. Two new members. Two new ones, although one of the two wasn't all that unknown to them. Well, he'd be bringing a young woman, which was pretty much the only good thing to this day.

 

There was a roll of thunder, a lightning and Tony knew that his 'guests' had arrived. Natasha next to him pushed away from the counter and entered the living room before the billionaire did. The picture greeting her made her grin.

 

Bruce Banner stood by the window, rubbing his hands together nervously while he kept a watchful eye on Clint Barton. The archer had one hand on the weapon on his thigh, his eyes fixed on the newcomers. Steve Rogers had even gotten the shield out and seemed like he was ready to throw it at any second.

 

“Lay down your weapons, my friends. There are no enemies here,” Thor said with his deep voice and put a hand onto Loki's shoulder. “My brother has shown regret and will make up for his actions.” Loki raised an eyebrow and turned away from the thunderer's grasp.

 

“Oh, will I?” he asked with a grin and got six glares in return.

 

“I think silence would be marvellous right now,” Aoife whispered and raised an eyebrow as she felt Tony's intense gaze on her. Stark had frozen in the moment when his eyes had found the young lady as he entered the room. She was wearing a beautiful, sparkling dress and her white hair was made up into a complicated braid. She wasn't tall, very short actually, but her grey eyes shone with an authority that could match Fury's.

 

“Stark, you're being impolite,” Natasha remarked reproachfully and as if someone had turned a switch, Tony was back to extremely annoying in a second.”

 

“Wonderful that you trust Horny Helmet over there, Conan, we don't,” he smiled and earned a murderous glare from Loki, which he ignored skilfully.

 

“I think what Stark is trying to say is that we'll need a proof to believe in that regret.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest and didn't bother to hide the hostility with which he stared at the black-haired god.

 

“What am I supposed to do? Kneel before you?”

 

“Sounds like a start,” Romanoff nodded and Loki raised an eyebrow while Tony started to grin. Loki entertained the thought to follow up on that for a moment, just to ridicule it, but with regard to his pride, he decided against it.

 

“Thanks, but I will pass. After all, I am not the only one who has to prove something. Who assures me that you are not going to stab me from behind?”

 

Tony shrugged. “Nobody, but if anything, we would be attacking upfront, we're not cowards after all.”

 

“Are you trying to tell me something, Stark?”

 

“Hm, it wasn't me who levelled New York because of his inferiority complex.”

 

“First of all, no, I have no inferiority complexes or however you wish to call and prove that and secondly, no, of course you didn't, you wouldn't be able to in your tin can.”

 

“At least my 'tin can' looks better than your horny helmet. And yeah, you totally do have an inferiority complex.”

 

“May I say something?”

 

“Shut up, Thor!” both of them snapped at the same time, still staring at each other.

 

“Boys, calm down. Another question, where are these two going to live?” Natasha chimed in to prevent another destruction of Stark Tower.

 

“Here.” Thor made a wide gesture with his hand and Tony's and Loki's eyes widened at the same time.

 

“What?” they demanded simultaneously and Natasha's shoulders dropped. So the building was going to be destroyed again. Well, what did she care? It wasn't her home, after all.

 

“And what am I going to do with Pepper? I'm not letting her live under one roof with this guy!” Tony pointed an accusing finger at Loki, who crossed his arms. That was an insult of the highest level, as if he, Loki, was going to attack a defenceless woman.

 

“Tony, he's not that inhuman,” Pepper piped up while entering the living room.

 

“I'm not human at all.”

 

Tony ignored the god's comment and turned towards his girl. “Pepper, darling, I'm not going to let you live here with this psychopath!”

 

“Hold your tongue, metal man!” Thor threatened and Pepper bypassed Tony with a friendly smile to approach Loki.

 

“It's okay, dear,” she smiled, slightly faked, threw a sharp glance at Loki and then turned towards Aoife. “I'm going to take care of the lady now,” she said with a critical glance towards the dirty, foreign dress and the unruly, white hair.

 

 

 

Aoife stared at the trousers and the blouse laid out on the bed in front of her. The clothes were strange to her, but she had to admit that she liked them. It was something else not to be forced to wear long, uncomfortable dresses all the time. She had always envied her brother for the right to wear trousers without getting glares in return.

 

There was a quiet knock on the door and Aoife hastily closed the last button of her blouse before she invited Pepper in.

 

“Are you done?” she asked and Aoife nodded while opening the clamp that held her hair up and let it fall down over her shoulders. “You look beautiful.” She raised an eyebrow, then she bypassed the other woman to walk down the corridor. “It that why your husband can't take his eyes off me?”

 

Pepper froze for a second and then laughed brightly. “Husband? Husband? Oh, no, no, no! Definitely not! He's too childish, egoistical, socially incompetent and constantly horny for that. No, we're absolutely not married and won't be for some time.”

 

Aoife turned her back towards her and began to grin. “Then I wonder what the box with the ring next to the vodka is supposed to mean,” she said innocently and heard Pepper inhale sharply.

 

For a moment, the strawberry blond woman stood in the hallway with her mouth hanging open, then she stormed past Aoife into the kitchen. The white-haired one grinned, entered the living room and sat down on the couch next to Loki. The god of chaos had made himself comfortable with a cup of tea and listened to a heated discussion between Thor and Tony about living arrangements. “Interesting?” she asked quietly and Loki raised an eyebrow.

 

“Not a bit!”

 

“Wait a moment, it's going to get funny soon.” Her grin widened as the sound of a bottle breaking came from the kitchen. Not even five seconds later, a flushed Pepper came into the room, a box with a golden ring in her hand.

 

Tony turned away from Thor with a snort, froze as he spotted the piece of jewellery and blushed a bright red. “I... I can explain that!” he stammered and raised his hands, but Pepper's hand was already hitting his cheek.

 

“How dare you?” she yelled and Tony's eyes widened.

 

“What? Dare to want to marry you? Is that breaking a law now or what?”

 

“Yes, uh, no, I mean, yes!” Confused, Pepper shook her head, then buried her face in her hands. “Oh god, why is this happening now?” She turned away, intent on leaving the room when Tony threw his hands in the air and followed her.

 

“Is that a no?” he called after her loudly, but she just shook her head tiredly.

 

“I need to sleep over that,” she muttered and vanished into the bathroom, leaving Tony gobsmacked and with a ring in his hand in the living room.

 

Er turned around and looked into the pitiful faces of Natasha, Steve, Bruce and Thor, Clint didn't show any emotion and Loki and Aoife were both pressing their hands over their mouths to muffle their laughter. The black-haired god of chaos rose to his feet and began to clap slowly, Aoife following suit.

 

“Just be quiet!” Tony hissed angrily and Loki started to grin.

 

“Well done, Loki, really. Great work,” Natasha said ironically, leaving the room together with Clint.

 

“I think I'm going to retreat as well.” Aoife bid her goodbye with a look towards the sinking sun and slowly walked towards her rooms.

 

 

 


End file.
